


life is good, wild and sweet

by fangirl_squee



Category: Friends at the Table (Podcast)
Genre: M/M, Post-Canon, but not really any spoilers for tm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-05
Updated: 2019-02-05
Packaged: 2019-10-23 00:53:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17673311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fangirl_squee/pseuds/fangirl_squee
Summary: Kent and Gig go to the beach, Kent and Gig go to a party, Kent and Gig go home.





	life is good, wild and sweet

**Author's Note:**

> Title from ‘all night long’ by lionel richie, which you should imagine being played throughout this fic and also is absolutely on gig's space ipod.
> 
> Thanks to muna for the idea, and to maddie for betaing and general life-saving

 

“This,” says Gig, “is  _ such _ a good ‘welcome back’ gift.”

 

Kent feels himself blush, glad that his broad sunhat shades his face enough that Gig probably can’t tell. “Well. I know how fond you are of the ocean.”

 

“Yeah!” says Gig, punctuating the word with a wave of his arms, splashing back down in the waist-high water.

 

Kent laughs. Gig is so  _ amazed  _ by the beach. Kent loves that about him: that Gig is so endless enchanted by the expanse of water and warm sand that has been Kent’s whole world for most of his existence. Gig almost seems to find it as endlessly enchanting as he finds Gig to be.

 

Gig coaxes him into the water, far deeper than the ankle high level that Kent usually allows himself. His chrisp jeans get quickly soaked in the sun-warmed seawater but it’s hard to mind, as he watches Gig splash his hand through the slow roll of a wave.

 

\--

 

Kent steps towards him, tentative, as Gig closes the door. Gig is smiling when he turns towards him, soft and warm and entirely for him in a way that utterly takes Kent’s breath away. It gives Kent the courage to take another step towards him, and another, until he is standing improperly close to Gig; quite inside Gig’s personal space.

 

Gig keep smiling, even as he leans down to kiss Kent. Kent can’t help but match his expression, gasping a little as Gig pulls him close. Kent’s hands flutter along Gig’s sides, settling at his shoulders, not quite sure where else is allowed. Gig’s own hands are at his waist, one sliding up his back to gentle cradle the back of Kent’s head.

 

Gig hums into his mouth. “Your hair is so  _ soft _ .”

 

Kent feels his cheeks burn. “Oh. Well. You know. I try.”

 

Gig huffs a laugh and leans down again, his hand threading through Kent’s hair. Kent sighs. If his knees go a little weak, well, Gig has a good hold of him, and Gig would never let him fall.

 

\--

 

Eventually, the other beachgoers recognise Gig, kids dragging their parents over from all along the beach. Gig laughs, chatting easily to children and adults alike, at ease in a crowd in a way that Kent has never been able to master.

 

Gig starts teaching the kids how to build sandcastles, how to dig tunnels underneath them, talking about engineering and structural integrity. The kids nod along, as do some of the parents, caught up in the moment in a way that Kent utterly understands. Gig is a captivating sight and no more so than when he is at work like this, talking about the joy of creation, the care and safety of other in play and work. 

 

Some others talk amongst themselves, relaxed on the sand. Kent understands that too. Gig also has that effect on people, drawing them into his circle of warmth, putting them at ease.

 

\--

 

It takes them quite a while to even move from the entryway. Gig doesn’t press forward, seemingly as content to exchange long, slow kisses as Kent is, until his manners catch up to him.

 

“Should we, uh…” Kent loses his train of thought for a long moment, as Gig mouths at the spot under his jaw. “Did you want to sit down?”

 

Gig blinks down at him, a smile blooming across his face. “Yeah, if you want?”

 

The sitting room of the poolhouse Gig is staying in is small, by Brighton standards, but Gig seems to like it. Kent made sure to keep the furniture bright, in case of Gig’s return. Gig flops down onto one of the neon orange velvet sofas, pulling Kent down into his lap.

 

Kent barely has time to let out a surprised  _ oof _ before Gig’s lips are on his again. Kent gets a little caught up in the new heat of it, his hands sliding down Gig’s sides, slipping under Gig’s patched aqua tank top of their own accord. Gig make a please noise, arching towards him a little, and Kent’s breath catches in his throat at the  _ want _ such a sound strikes inside of him.

 

Gig’s hands are on his hips, and Kent’s not entirely sure if Gig’s guiding the small rolling motions or if he’s controlling it but he welcomes the touch all the same, the messy impropriety of it, especially as Gig begins to shift under him, his small desperate motions a mirror of Kent’s own.

 

\--

 

Kent busies himself in organising their lunch, trying not to look too closely at Gig in his element, which he has already found to be too bright for his eyes to bear.

 

“Hey,” says Gig, touching Kent’s elbow lightly. Kent jumps. “Whoa! Sorry.”

 

“No, no,” says Kent. “I was just caught up in making sure lunch is sorted. You always do say not to build things on an empty stomach if you can help it.”

 

“Hey!” says Gig, beaming at him, “I do say that! Did you need me to check, like, dietary requirements or were you just going to cover stuff generally?”

 

Kent blinks. ”What?”

 

“You know…” Gig waves a hand behind him, in the direction of the group of kids who are still working away at what looks like an entire city of sandcastles. “Like, I don’t know how common allergies are but-”

 

“Oh, yes, of course,” says Kent, quickly pressing the back button on his tablet to get back to the order page, “I- Just generally, that’s probably the easiest way to do it?”

 

“Cool,” says Gig. He leans over Kent to peer at the tablet. The smell of berries wafts from Gig’s hair, sweet over the salty air. Kent carefully takes a steadying breath.

 

“So what are you getting? Like, a barbeque? That’s usually easiest with a big group.” Gig quickly looks up at him. “No, uh, not that I’m trying to tell you how to do your job or whatever, maybe you don’t do barbeques here, which is totally fine, like, not everywhere has to do barbeques.”

 

“I- No, barbeque sounds delightful,” says Kent, “We do… have them here.”

 

“Cool,” says Gig again, beaming at him, giving Kent time to bask in the sight before Gig is called away by the children.

 

Kent frowns at the tablet. In truth, he has not been to many barbeques. They tend to be rather informal, which is fitting for their current setting, certainly, but does not normally find its way into his life. Still, if there’s something Kent  _ does  _ know, it’s how to organise supplies for large groups of people on short notice. Just because these people are friendly strangers eating barbeque and not his great aunt’s friends and acquaintances for her and her partner’s anniversary dinner, the skillset is the same.

 

The only thing that makes this more difficult than normal is Gig’s eyes on him, Gig’s beaming grin every time he makes eye contact with Kent from across the beach. Kent’s not sure even the shade of his broad sunhat can hide his current blush, but at least Gig is enough of a gentleman not to mention it.

 

\--

 

“Not to like-” Gig inhales sharply, leaning his forehead on Kent’s as he lets out an unsteady exhale.

 

Kent thrills, watching him. He’s seen Gig’s streams, seen him covered in engine grease, and under fire, and hounded by excitable fans, but he’s never seen Gig look  _ unsteady _ before. He kisses Gig again, sinking into it, trying to impart some of the bubbling warmth in his chest to Gig.

 

When they pause for breath Gig visibly tries to collect himself, taking another breath.

 

“Hey, so. Not to sound like- I mean don’t get me wrong, this is also  _ totally _ a line but- Okay,” says Gig.

 

His thumb is rubbing at Kent’s hip, so close to Kent’s bare skin he can almost feel it. 

 

“Listen,” says Gig, “we should probably get out of these wet clothes, right?”

 

Kent’s mind flickers with heat, destroying any remaining coherent thoughts. “That’s… You… Yes.”

 

Gig huffs a laughs. He presses a kiss to Kent’s lips and then to Kent’s cheeks, the tip of his nose, his forehead. Kent barely notices Gig unbuttoning his still-damp shirt until Gig pushes it off his shoulders. He gasps as the cool night air touches his overheated skin, gasps again as Gig’s hands run up and down the bared skin of his back. 

 

Kent swallows, tentative fingers around the hem of Gig’s tank top. “I believe, in one of your safety streams, you said that sharing body heat was a practical source of warmth.”

 

Gig blinks up at him. “Oh, yeah, but this is… this isn’t practical, right?”

 

Kent smiles. “Not at all.”

 

Gig beams, and Kent revels in the warmth of it before he leans down to be closer to the source of the warmth.

 

\--

 

The arrival of the food is as flawless as anything Kent has ever organised, naturally. Gig sits by him as much as he is able, pulled out of his seat by one of the children wanting to show him something or other, or by a parent with a question - how do you fix this kind of pipe, how do I get my mesh connection to stop dropping out, how do you fit a stove top without taking the whole thing apart? Gig answers anything people care to ask him, his hands moving in quick gestures, occasionally pulling at the mesh to show someone a certain part or to pull up a particular how-to video of his.

 

The kids pull him away entirely towards the end of the afternoon. Gig laughs, and catches Kent’s arm, pulling him along, towards the sandcastle city the children had made earlier.

 

“Uh,” says Kent, “Is there more to build?”

 

“Nope!” says Gig, grinning, “Now is the equally fun part, and I didn’t want you to miss out!”

 

Kent is about to ask what exactly that is when a child runs past the group and jumps as far as they can into the sandcastle city, destroy several towers. The kids shriek and cheer, a loud, joyful noise, rushing to follow their lead.

 

Gig catches Kent’s hand, tugging him forward. “Come on!”

 

Kent steps gingerly after Gig. His foot sinks down into one of the tunnels the children had dug, tripping over his own feet and caught by Gig at the last moment.

 

“Sorry,” breathes Kent.

 

Gig’s arm is hot against his back, holding him close, keeping him safe.

 

Gig smiles. “No problem! What kind of safety officer would I be if I let you get hurt on the job?”

 

Gig lets Kent right himself, keeping a steadying arm on Kent’s waist as he carefully knocks over a few sandcastles.

 

\--

 

Kent bites his lip to muffle a whine as Gig kisses along his jaw, down his neck, feeling his hips stutter at the overwhelming sensation.

 

Gig leans back slightly. “Hey, c’mon. You don’t have to be quiet if you don’t want to be.”

 

Something in Kent’s chest clenches. “Oh, I…”

 

Gig reaches up, brushing Kent’s hair behind his ear. “Hey. You know I always like hearing from you.”

 

Gig’s sincere gaze is even more overwhelming than the earlier sensation, and Kent ducks his head, burying his face in the crook of Gig’s neck. Gig takes over the motion of their hips until Kent can gather himself, running a hand along Kent’s back, a soothing, heated pressure. Kent arches into his touch, letting out quiet moans.

 

“There, that’s it,” says Gig, his voice as steady and heated as his hands, “let me hear you.”

 

Kent’s voice grows in volume a little more, the sound of it echoing around the pool house, making him flush first at the noise, and then at Gig’s pleased expression, the soft words of encouragement he murmurs into Kent’s ear.

 

Gig’s hand tangles in his hair, a gentle tug drawing a moan from Kent and making heat twist in his stomach. Gig repeats the motion, his eyes trained on Kent, his other hand steady on Kent’s waist.

 

Kent’s nails dig into Gig’s shoulders and he buries his face into the crook of Gig’s neck again, pressing a sloppy kiss to Gig’s skin.

 

“Oh,” says Gig, his voice losing some of the steadiness, “Thats…”

 

Kent repeats the motion a little more deliberately than before, feeling Gig’s hip stutter against his. Gig make a breathy noise, the sound of it almost lost to the ocean waves. Kent can feel both of their rhythms losing time. Gig’s hand tightens at his waist, capturing Kent’s lips in his and Kent slips a hand between them to give Gig more friction, sliding under the waistband of Gig’s pants.

 

Time is hazy as he focuses on Gig, letting the outside world drop away for once, until Gig spills over his hand, shuddering. Kent lets out a low moan at the spike of heat the sensation drives through him. Gig hums his approval, sounding a little out of breath, running a steady hand up and down Kent’s back before tangling in his hair again.

 

Kent captures his lips to muffle the sound he makes this time, pouring the noise of his joy into Gig.

 

\--

 

“Sorry for getting your clothes all…” Gig waves an arm at him, as though he isn’t covered in twice as much sand as Kent is.

 

“I don’t mind,” says Kent, although he does, a little. It’s very uncomfortable to have clothes full of sand, but he would do it all over again to be able to spend such a day with Gig.

 

“It’s by far the most enjoyable day I’ve ever had at the beach.”

 

“But you’ve lived here your whole life!” says Gig, kind laughter in his voice.

 

Kent takes a breath and summons his courage. “Yes. But you were never here before now.”

 

Gig doesn’t stumble, but there’s a slip in the rhythm of his footsteps, a hesitation. Kent can’t look at him to check. He used up all his courage on the words.

 

“I didn’t…” Gig hesitates. It’s unusual to hear him pause so, and it makes Kent’s stomach twist. “I like to think I have an impact on the places I go, the people I see and talk to and try to help but I… I don’t think of myself as having  _ that _ much impact.”

 

There’s a strange tone to his words, and when Kent looks over he stops walking at the expression on Gig’s face. He’s only ever seen such an expression on his own face.

 

“You do.” Kent steels himself. “Gig Kephart, you… you are the most singular man I have ever made the acquaintance of.”

 

Gig’s mouth falls open in an  _ oh _ , but he doesn’t speak. Kent can just make out the faint flush under his dark skin in the sunset light, and it gives him courage to turn fully towards Gig, to reach out and take both of Gig’s hands in his.

 

Kent swallows. “It is truly wonderful to have you here again, truly, truly…  _ wonderful _ .”

 

He squeezes Gig’s hands. Gig, like a miracle, squeezes back.

 

“It’s… I gotta say Kent, it is kind of wonderful to be here. This place is great…  _ you’re _ great.” He smiles at Kent, looking a little sheepish. “I can’t believe it’s been so long since I was here.”

 

The warmth of Gig’s hands must give Kent a burst of courage, because without thinking he says, “I can.”

 

Gig blinks and then laughs. He steps closer to Kent. Kent’s heart begins to attempt to escape from his chest, feeling as though it were in his throat.

 

“I…” says Gig, “You know I can’t stay too long, so it seems kind of… you know… to ask, but I…”

 

“Gig,” says Kent, “I would give you anything that you asked of me.”

 

Gig lets go of one of his hands and for a moment Kent feels a stab of panic, that Gig is going to step away from him-

 

But instead Gig reaches out, and tucks Kent’s hair behind his ear. Kent can barely breathe. He’s not entirely sure, in this moment, that he remembers how.

 

And then Gig is leaning down, a little, towards him, and Kent feels himself go up on tiptoes as if pulled by some greater force, and their lips finally,  _ finally _ meet and Kent feels lighter than air, kept aloft purely by the sensation of Gig’s lips on his.

 

He puts his hand on Gig’s arm to steady himself as they break apart, feeling a little lightheaded.

 

Gig rests his forehead against Kent’s for a moment. Kent can see, intimately, the way he presses his lips together before he speaks. Kent wonders if Gig feels as though his lips are buzzing too, as though his whole body is changed, born anew.

 

“I have,” says Gig, “another thing to ask you, I think?”

 

“Anything,” breathes Kent. He means it with his whole being.

 

“Do you…” Gig pauses, presses his lips together again, takes a breath. “Do you want to come in for coffee?”

 

Kent pulls back a little. “Oh. I don’t… I’m sorry Gig, I don’t really drink coffee, especially not this late-”

 

“No, yeah, neither do I,” says Gig, “it’s, uh. I meant more like, did you want to come inside. With me.”

 

Kent feels all the air in his lungs leave in one breath. “Oh. Oh! Yes, I do, very much so.”

 

Gig smiles at him, not his usual beaming grin but something smaller, warmer. Something just for him. Kent smiles back, keeping his hand tangled in Gig’s as Gig leads him towards the poolhouse.

 

\--

 

Kent lets out an unsteady breath against the crook of Gig’s neck, feeling his pounding heart slow a little. Gig’s got his arms wrapped around him still, warm and steady, keeping them pressed close together. Kent tilts his head to look up at Gig, and Gig is already looking down at him, soft smile on his face. Warmth bubbles again in Kent’s chest.

 

Gig lets go of him a little, to reach out and tuck Kent’s hair behind his ear again. “Hey.”

 

“Hello,” says Kent.

 

Gig huffs a laugh. He runs a gentle hand through Kent’s hair for a few moments, and Kent lets himself melt into Gig’s touch, relaxed in a way he hasn’t felt in years, maybe ever.

 

“So,” says Gig, making Kent look up at him. “I’m glad you came in for coffee.”

 

Kent laughs, pressing his face to Gig’s chest for a moment. “Well. I’m glad you came to visit.”

 

Gig smiles down at him. “I’ll have to do it more often.”

 

“I shall hope that you do,” says Kent. He pauses. “We can always have coffee in the morning, if you’d like.”

 

Gig laughs. “Kent, I would  _ absolutely _ like that.”

**Author's Note:**

> come say hi: mariusperkins on most places


End file.
